


Parenthetical, the Third

by SerenStone



Series: Rage, Rage Against the Dying of the Light [7]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Do Not Do As the Warlock Do, F/M, M/M, Multi, Other, Squall - Freeform, We Stan Ghosts in this House, We Stan Hunters in this House, We Stan Titans in this House, We Stan Warlocks in this House
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:48:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24283876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerenStone/pseuds/SerenStone
Summary: blaze like meteors and be gay
Relationships: Ghost/EXO-Ghost, Guardian/Ghost
Series: Rage, Rage Against the Dying of the Light [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1743430
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Parenthetical, the Third

Isaac considered the data he’d found, uncertain how to proceed. After his brush with death, experience of Shry’s pain, and experience of errors while they worked toward repairs, he’d been preoccupied with the idea of pain and the human experience. It had brought him back to the bracelet Ardath had told him about. For several days now, he had pored over the data hoping to find the reason why both his and Ardath’s instincts said this information was important. 

He’d spent hours talking with Ardath, learning about Shry’s first years of life as a Lightbearer, learning what she’d already seemed to know and what she’d had to learn. While most mortals Isaac knew had some capacity for adaptation, it seemed that Shry had already had some sense of the necessity of the skill before she had any new experiences. From Ardath’s descriptions, Isaac was willing to guess that she had already known how to measure and budget her resources. 

What had her mortal life been like that such skills were ingrained in her?

And so the bracelet: a med alert tag with her entire medical history contained within the data card. Sirideán “Shry” Ó Broin. Shry had been… very ill in her mortal life. According to the records she’d kept a job in a cryptosecurity company even with her illnesses. Her emergency contact was listed as Slàine Ó Broin, who was also listed as the source of several blood transfusions, and as her twin brother.

“Shry,” Isaac kept his voice even. “I’ve found something.”

“What’ve you got?” she asked, not looking away from cleaning the mud from her helmet.

“A twin.”

“Twin what?”

“Your twin.”

She looked up, frowning. “Isaac, what are you talking about?”

“I was researching your mortal medical records. I found family records; you had a twin brother that you were close to according to the data I’ve been able to find.”

Shry stared at him, her eyes both sharp and unfocused. “Where?”

“Earth. I have coordinates-” She was already through the door. 

They transmatted into a region that used to be called Cork. The ruined city around them creaked in the gentle breeze. Shry walked slowly toward the graveyard Isaac had found. In the back, near an enormous tree was a stone that read Slàine Ó Broin. The date indicated he had died early on in the time of the Collapse; earlier than she had. Shry crouched at the stone, turning her bracelet in her hand. She rested one hand on the name on the stone.

“Ardath used to insist the bracelet was important,” she said quietly.

“He told me about it,” Isaac admitted.

“How did you find him?”

“Transfusion records.”

Roughly, she pulled off her helmet and ran her hand through her hair. “I can’t remember anything. Why-”

“Loss is loss. Not remembering might be worse,” he said gently, transmatting her helmet away.

Shry sat, leaning one shoulder against the tombstone. Isaac waited several hours for her to speak again. “Did he suffer?”

Isaac scanned. “It appears he died as a result of blunt force trauma. I doubt he was conscious long enough to suffer,” he explained.

“Hello?” They turned to see a Ghost at the edge of the graveyard. “What are you doing here?”

“Saying goodbye, I guess,” Shry said, rising. “I’m Shry, this is Isaac.”

“I’m Olivia, but I go by Olly,” the Ghost said, approaching carefully. “Why are you in a graveyard? I’ve only ever run into other Ghosts in graveyards, not Guardians.”

Isaac nodded toward the grave. “In her mortal life, she had a twin.”

“Oh,” the Ghost sighed. She turned and scanned the indicated grave and became quite still. “Oh dear,” she said quietly.

“Olly?” Shry said, curious.

“Compatible,” Olly said simply. “Please step back.”

Shry’s eyes went wide and she took several steps away. Isaac darted to her side and reached for her Light. _Are you all right?_ he asked, concerned. 

_I don’t know, love,_ she admitted. 

A brilliant beam of Light emerged from Olly and bored into the ground. Slowly the Light dispersed into something more like a cloud and then condensed into the shape of a person. The shape resolved into a man with a face identical to Shry’s, even the same white hair. The man breathed deeply, and sat up, blinking.

“Hello!” Olly said, audibly giddy. “You’re probably a bit confused right now, but it’s going to be okay. I’m here. I’m Olivia, but you can call me Olly. How do you feel?”

“I think I should be in pain, but I’m not,” a voice with an accent exactly like Shry’s said. He ran his hands over his chest and head. “I thought for sure I was dead.”

“You were,” Olly said, drawing the man’s gaze to her. “Now you’re not.”

“As in I died on the table or- why am I in a graveyard?”

“Because you were dead. Buried. I don’t know about a table. But the Traveler made me to find you! And I brought you back. I’m very glad to find you.”

“Traveler? Big off-white orb on Io?”

“It was on Io before it came to Earth, yes.”

“S’on Earth now? Finished up on Io, then?”

“No. It fled the Collapse.”

“The what now?” He pushed himself to his feet and caught sight of his tombstone. “Damn,” he breathed. “That’s surreal as fuck.”

“The Collapse happened after you died and before I was born. I’m afraid I don’t have a lot of information for you.”

“Right,” he said, still staring at the tombstone. “D’you know anything about my sister?” Shry lurched. “Where she is? How long has it been?”

“Around one thousand years.”

His knees buckled. “So… she’s dead.”

“Do you remember anything?” Olly asked, curiously. “About your family?”

“Course,” he said. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Most don’t,” Olly explained. “It’s very rare to remember a name, even.”

“Well it’s there, isn’t it?” he gestured at the stone. “Slàine. We were the Ó Broins. Half of us sicker than they had any right to be and all of us too smart for our own good.”

Only when Olly glanced at her did Shry take a step forward. “You remember more than I do,” she said softly.

His head came up. “Shry?” he turned and spotted her and was wrapped around her in an instant. “Oh fuck, oh fuck,” he breathed and pulled back enough to look at her. “You’re walking without a mobility aid?”

“No need for one,” she said. 

“You- what?” 

She gestured to Isaac over her shoulder. “This is Isaac. He’s like Olly. They’re called Ghosts. Your Ghost can heal you like the Traveler could change worlds.”

Slàine’s eyes went wide and then he grinned like a madman and the expression was very familiar to Isaac. “That’s amazing! You’re fully well?”

“Yeah. That’s why nothing hurts,” she explained.

“Well,” he managed, turning enough to look at Olly. “Thanks for that. Taking an entire tree to the head and rest of you shortly after is not an experience I’d recommend. Also not the end I expected for myself.”

“You- You remember a lot,” Olly said, awed.

“Why is that weird?”

“No one knows,” Shry said. “We don’t know why Lightbearers regain their life but not their memories.”

“What about you?” Slàine turned back to her.

“You feel really familiar,” Shry said. “I’m comfortable with you without having a single reason to be logically. But I remember nothing.”

“But you’re here?” Slàine pointed out.

“Isaac found your name in this,” Shry held up the bracelet. “I’ve been around again for about twelve years and today was the first I’ve heard of you.”

Slàine’s breath caught in his throat and he stared at her, grief plain on his face. “That sounds horrible.”

“Some of it was,” she admitted freely. “Not all.”

“Right. So, you don’t remember anything?”

Shry shook her head. “No.”

“F- fuck,” he only barely managed. “Nope. That’s awful. Shit, I’m sorry.”

“I’m okay,” Shry offered. 

“I suppose you didn’t know to grieve,” he muttered. “Yeah, okay. That’ll take me a bit to get used to.”

“Sure,” she said, not disagreeing with the assumption that he would be with her to get used to it. “Olly, How would you feel about coming with us?” she asked. 

“I think that’s the only thing he’ll be willing to do,” Olly said and Slàine nodded emphatically.

“What about you?” Isaac countered.

“I would be honored,” the Ghost said quietly.

_Bring the ship down, please love._

_Of course._

Shortly the Nullifier landed nearby. “Ship?” Slàine asked, head coming up. “Those were Bray engines.”

That startled a laugh out of Shry. “How in the-”

“Fuck, yeah. You don’t remember. Irish Naval Aerospace Service. Recently promoted to Wing Commander, OC of the eleventh operations wing. I preferred the flying, but I was trying to think in terms of early retirement,” he said.

“Well,” Shry said, nonplussed. “I’d offer congratulations but, well. That ship’s mine; I was going to offer to get you out of the graveyard.”

“Your- What the sweet fuck? You own an entire Clovis Bray fighter?”

“More than one,” Isaac offered. The consternation on Slàine’s face was plain.

“It is normal for Guardians to have more than one ship!” Olly clarified. “And necessary. Sometimes they get blown up.”

Slàine looked at Olly and back to Shry and again at Olly. “I think I need to get a definition of Guardian from you.”

“Guardians protect the Traveler!” Olly said proudly.

“Sort of,” Shry muttered. 

“Why’s the big thing need protection?” Slàine followed Olly’s gaze to Shry.

She sighed. “Because there are lots of creatures and… entities that would like to steal its power or destroy it.”

“And you’re one of these Guardians?”

“More or less,” she shrugged.

“More or less?” Olly repeated, stunned. “What do you mean?”

“Guardians are members of the Vanguard. I’m not sure how much longer I will be one.”

“But- But you’re Shry!” Olly tilted every which way in her confusion. Slàine’s eyebrows went up.

“I am,” Shry agreed. “That ought to speak for itself.”

Olly went very still. “I don’t like that.”

“Neither do we,” Isaac offered.

“You’re Shry, huh?” Slàine elbowed her gently.

“Hero of the Red War,” Olly said, distracted.

Slàine stiffened. “War?”

“Hardly counts as one really,” Shry sighed. “More like a massacre.”

“Massacre? You- What- Shry,” Slàine turned and grabbed her shoulders. “You’re not an airman, sailor, or a soldier.”

“No,” she agreed, Ardath’s words in her ears. “I’m a Lightbearer. It’s fairly different.”

“You-” the man looked so worried that Isaac spoke up.

“Lightbearers have certain gifts from the Traveler that allow them to not only be very effective combatants but also to survive incredible trials,” he explained.

“So long as our Ghosts are with us,” Shry added, glancing at Isaac.

“So you’re healthy and all,” Slàine’s voice was edging into anger. “But you have to go to war.”

“No,” Shry shook her head. “I didn’t have to. Lightbearers don’t have to join the Vanguard.”

“But you did.”

“I wanted to help,” she said simply.

“You could have gone back to work,” he pointed out.

Shry blinked at him, blank. “Work?”

“Fuck,” Slàine breathed. “You don’t remember that either. You’re a- were a cybersecurity specialist.”

Shry nodded, thoughtful. “That would explain some things.”

Slàine watched her for a long moment, and Isaac could see that he was thinking carefully. “Okay,” he said eventually. “I need information on the enemy and our own defensive capacity.”

Shry smiled faintly. “That’ll take a while. Mind going somewhere more comfortable?”

Slàine looked back at his tombstone. “Nah. Let’s get out of here.” When they came in sight of the Nullifier, he let out a low whistle. “Damn.” He walked around the ship twice. “You had her long?”

“Three years,” Isaac said, drifting to Slàine’s side. 

“You’ve taken good care of her,” he said from underneath the fuselage.

“Thank you,” Isaac said, pleased. “I have learned a great deal about mechanics and maintenance since working with Shry.”

“You hard on your gear?” he called.

“Less than some,” she said, defensively.

Slàine snorted and emerged from beneath the ship. “You always ended up doing lots of maintenance of your tools.”

“Want to see the inside?” she offered as a distraction.

“Duh,” he said. “But first, while we are outside, what was that about abilities?”

Shry and Isaac looked to Olly but she shook herself. “Warlocks are well suited to explaining this,” she said cheerfully. “And I’d like to hear your perspective.”

“Warlocks,” Slàine muttered.

“The Traveler’s power is manifested through a substance we call Light,” Shry began, pooling some of her own in her hands and drawing a stare from Slàine. “Thus, those of us brought back by Ghosts are called Lightbearers. The Light of the Traveler within us and our Ghosts allows us to tap into elemental forces and bend them to our will. Colloquially you could call it magic and no one would question you.” She shaped her light into a small lightning storm in her hands. “Arc, or electricity.” A small vortex. “Void.” She took a deep breath to steel herself and called up a decent flame. “Solar, or fire.”

“What the sweet fuck,” he shook his head. “No way.”

Shry tilted her head and cycled back to Arc. “No?” She burst into Stormtrance and blinked behind him. “I guess you could skip out on it.”

“The fu-” he startled and scrambled back. “How the-”

“Light,” she shrugged, stepping out of Stormtrance. He gaped at her. “Want to try?”

“Uh.”

Shry formed an orb of Light and held it out to him. He took it slowly and absorbed it. “What? Where’d it go?”

“You absorbed it. Look for a way you feel different.”

He stared at her, then took a deep breath. “Right,” he dragged out the vowel but he focused. “Wait, what?”

“Lean into that,” Shry grinned. “Does it feel like offense or defense?”

“Offense,” he said, distracted, flexing his hand. 

“Give it a shot,” she encouraged him. 

He flexed his hand and then closed it around the hilt of a blade that glowed blue and crackled with Arc. “Um.” He stared at it.

“That’s weird.” Olly said.

“Hunter,” Shry countered. Isaac wondered if she’d even questioned her instinct there.

“Yeah but Arcstriders don’t have knives.”

“No class-bound expectations,” Shry pointed out, grinning. “Did that on purpose.”

“What is this?” Slàine called, waving the knife around.

“It’s a knife,” Shry said, droll.

“I can see that,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Why is it not shocking me if it’s electrically charged?”

“Because you’re in an Arc attuned focus,” she said, moving to his side. “You’re part of the circuit.”

“You understand this is insane?”

“Magic,” she shrugged. “Just think of it as magic.”

“Shry, no,” Slàine said. “Things have reasons.”

“And I can explain them to you, mostly. If you accept that they’re real.”

“How do I put this down?” he asked eventually. 

“Let go,” she said gently.

Hesitantly, Slàine uncurled his fingers and the blade dissipated into the air. “Bullshit,” he whispered.

Shry laughed and gently pulled him toward the gangplank. “Come on. I need to see Katya’s face when she sees you.”

“Katya?” he asked.

“My teammate,” Shry explained. Isaac transmatted aboard and began preflight checks as well as setting out refreshments. 

“Damn,” Slàine breathed when he came on board. “You live here?”

“Essentially,” Shry said, shucking her armored coat. “Thanks, Isaac,” she said when she grabbed a canteen. “Grab whatever,” Shry told Slàine.

“You are welcome,” Isaac said. “Preflight is complete.”

“Cool. Go ahead. Olly, here,” Shry produced one of the improved shells. “These are designed such that they can take a sniper shot and you still be okay.”

“Wow,” Olly said, transmatting immediately into the new shell. “Thank you! This is really strong. How did you-”

“Our friend, Ardath-4 designed them,” Shry smiled. “You’ll meet him at destination, I expect.”

“Where’s that?” Slàine asked around a mouthful of nutribar.

“Our camp in the European Dead Zone,” Shry explained, grabbing a datapad and reformatting it for Slàine’s education and use.

“What’s the number for?” 

“Hm?”

“Ardath-4.”

“He’s an EXO. So’s Katya-7. Katya’s Ghost’s name is Astrophel.”

“Ardath-4 not have a Ghost?”

“No,” Shry shook her head.

“He normal, then?”

“Hardly,” Isaac murmured. Shry snorted.

“Right,” Slàine drawled. “Friends with you should have been all the clue I needed.”

Shry winked at him over her shoulder and Isaac took the ship to low Earth orbit to fly back to the continent. “Go ahead and take a bit to rest, get your thoughts in order, whatever. Ardath can ask questions faster than most people can keep up with.”

“Sounds like fourth grade,” Slàine muttered, dropping himself on the cot with another canteen in his hand. “You like to have never shut up.”

“You’re one to talk,” she muttered, frowning at the datapad in her hands. A grin blossomed on Slàine’s face and Isaac found himself wishing to see that expression on Shry’s face.

Isaac turned to look at her. “Shry?”

“Mm?”

“Do you remember?”

“What? Why?” she looked up. “You know I don’t.”

“You just said “you’re one to talk” when Slàine said you never shut up.”

Shry stared at Isaac, her eyes unfocusing. “I don’t,” she said, hesitantly. “But there are still… reflexes,” she mused.

“Hot damn. Not even death can fuck us up,” Slàine toasted her with his canteen. Shry burst out laughing and Olly was clearly amused as well. “Now what the hell am I wearing?” Slàine asked. “It is not comfortable to lie down in, son of a bitch,” he sat up, pulling at the basic armor Olly had put him in.

“Oh,” Olly said. “Yeah, it’s armor. Not meant for relaxing.”

 _Your clothes will fit him,_ Isaac noted.

Shry nodded and pulled clothes from a cabinet. “Here. It’s pretty safe where we’re headed and Olly can always transmat you out if things go to shit.”

“Transmat?” he asked, grabbing the clothes happily and stripping where he was.

“The Traveler built something that we call the Orbital Grid. It allows us - Ghosts, I mean - to transport matter across distances.”

“Transmaterial transport,” Isaac said, hopeful that would further clarify.

“Magic?” he said.

“Magic,” Shry smiled, already fond.

When they strode into the camp Silla was the first to look up from sharpening her knives. She blinked and squinted at them. “What the- Shry, you multiplied.”

“Yup,” Shry nodded casually.

“Oh hell,” Katya muttered, staring at them. “What did you do?”

Isaac himself enjoyed watching Ardath splutter incoherently from the far side of the fire.

“Found a stray, brought him home,” Shry shrugged while Slàine nodded with faux-earnestness on his face. 

“Woke up in a graveyard and this nice lady agreed to bring me someplace warm,” he said in a perfect imitation of Shry’s voice. Bee started giggling and Ardath fell off the log.

“I’m Olly!” the Ghost chirped. 

Ardath’s vocal output servos seemed to be stuck making a sound like grinding. 

“What - and I mean this the kindest way possible, Olly - the fuck, Shry,” Astrophel said faintly. 

“Once upon a time,” Slàine said in his own voice. “Blah blah, she had a twin. That’s me. Slàine Ó Broin,” he swept a bow. “At your service.” Shry nodded along, expression serene.

“Oh Light save us. There really are two of them,” Astrophel hid behind Katya.

Finally, Shry broke down giggling and Slàine followed instantly, increasing Bee’s mirth to a cackle. Isaac drifted across the camp to gently push Ardath off the ground. “Transfusion records,” he offered under the laughter of twin guardians on the ground.

“I never even thought,” Ardath muttered, resettling himself on the log.

“We only went to see the grave,” Isaac explained quietly. “Olly wanted to know why there was a Guardian in a graveyard.”

“Okay,” Katya sighed, having listened to their conversation. “I guess we’re doing this.” She pushed herself to her feet and strode to where the twins were. She pulled Shry to her feet and then offered a hand to Slàine.

“My god,” he said, looking up at her. “You’re fantastic.” Astrophel spluttered briefly and hid behind Ardath instead.

Katya’s head canted to the side. “Thanks. Want up?”

Slàine took her hand and let her haul him upright. “Wow. I’m sorry, I’ve never seen an EXO before. I don’t mean to be rude, but is the armor part of you or nah?”

Katya’s head returned to a neutral alignment. “It’s extra. EXO plating can be changed out for different styles but this is additional armor,” she gestured toward her chestplate.

“Amazing,” he said, walking a circle around her. Ardath shrunk on the log as if to avoid any further EXO-fascination.

“You’ve made her uncomfortable, Slàine. Give it a rest.” Shry settled by the fire, accepted a whetstone from Silla, and began sharpening the knife she kept in her boot. 

“Where did that come from?” Slàine asked, turning to his sister. Katya’s posture relaxed and she returned to her seat.

“Sheath,” Shry said.

“Which is?” Slàine rolled his eyes.

“A thing for holding knives.”

“Where’d you keep yours? Damnit, Shry,” Slàine threw himself down on his stomach next to her and watched. “You’re doing it wrong.”

“In my boot and fuck off.”

“No, you’re really doing it wrong.”

Shry looked across the fire at Ardath and Isaac, her expression flat. “Silla, am I doing it wrong?”

“I don’t know, let me watch.” Shry began again. “Shit, yeah you are. Fuck, stop, fuck. Give me that,” Silla snatched the whetstone and knife from her and held them away from Shry as if to protect them. “It’s a wonder you haven’t bent the entire blade. Seriously, Shry.”

Slàine wiggled in place. “Told you.”

“Oh Light save us,” Astrophel muttered again.

Shry sighed, longsuffering. “All right. Fine. How do you do it, then?”

Silla offered the knife and whetstone to Slàine and he finally looked at her as he accepted them. “Oh god. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, but what _are_ you?”

“I’d accept god,” Silla shrugged. Shry sniggered. “I’m from a race of people called the Awoken. We were human a long time ago, but we’re not anymore. I don’t actually know why that is.”

“Right. No longer human. That counts as god-like, yeah?”

“Then we’re all of us gods,” Shry pointed out.

“I’m human!” he insisted.

“Mostly!” Olly agreed.

“The fuck,” Slàine said flatly.

“Light, remember?” Shry formed another orb of Light and flicked it at his face. He flinched but still absorbed it. “Damn. Have to work on your reflexes if you’re really a Hunter.” Silla perked up. “Show me the knife thing already.”

“Knife thing,” he grumbled. “It’s a whetstone and the term is sharpening, you spoon.”

“I could kill you with a spoon without sharpening it and Olly would bring you right back,” Shry leaned on her fist, elbow on her knee. “Get on with it.”

“Now hold on a minute,” Slàine sat up. “Olly can do what now?”

“Fully restore you to yourself!” Olly said, happily.

“What.”

“Well done, Shry. Explained the whole thing, did you?” Ardath teased. 

“Look, I wasn’t expecting Olly to let me do it. I’ve never trained a new Light before. What did you expect?” Shry shot back.

“Calm down,” Katya said in a bored tone. “Lightbearers are effectively immortal so long as they take care of their Ghosts.”

“Is that why they’re called Ghosts? Cause they- No. Surely not,” Slàine said faintly.

“Unknown. The term was coined too long ago to know for certain,” Isaac said.

“Ugh.” Slàine flopped back down on his back this time. “No offense to any Ghosts. I don’t want to think about that right now. Getting smashed by a tree once is enough for me.”

“You know how you died?” Silla asked, curiously.

“Yeah. Remember the whole ruddy thing,” he grumbled, beginning to apply Shry’s knife to the whetstone with exaggerated motions. 

“I’m so sorry,” Ardath said. “That sounds awful.”

“Aerospace fighter pilot, taken out by newly transplanted tree falling on his head at military hospital christening. More at six,” Slàine groaned. “Dumbest thing. No blaze of glory.”

“You remember that too?” Silla sat forward on the bench. 

“I remember everything,” he said. “Remember Shry, remember our folks, remember grade school. Fuck grade school.” The entire group around the fire went silent. After a few beats, Slàine turned to look back at Shry. “Really is that weird, huh?”

“Really,” she nodded sympathetically. 

“Gross,” he muttered. “Look, you have to do the same number of strokes on both sides of the blade to keep it straight. I’m not going to do that because you already have it off center by like seven degrees. Which, by the way, how the hell?”

“Always liked to do it manually. Meditative,” Shry said, slightly defensive.

“Well that’s your problem. Can’t zone out. Have to keep count,” he said around his tongue between his teeth.

“Hunter?” Silla ventured.

“He made a knife out of Arc,” Olly confided.

“Yes!” Silla clapped her hands together. “You’re going to teach me that and I’ll teach you Hunter stuff.”

“I have no idea how I did it. No clue if I can do it again,” he said, not taking his eyes off the knife. “What’s all this about hunters?”

“The Vanguard maintains that there are three classes of Lightbearers, each with three subclasses and a few other variations,” Shry explained. “I didn’t explain those because I’ve suspected they were bullshit for a while now.”

“The more I hear about this Vanguard the less impressed I am,” he muttered. Olly drooped but nodded along. When everyone in the clearing glanced at Shry, he paused his work. “What the sweet fuck did they do to you?” The edge of anger returned. Ardath muttered something Isaac couldn’t catch. Slàine focused on him. “Care to share?”

“Oh, uh,” Ardath glanced at Shry apologetically. “She did the impossible and they demanded more.”

“They? Names please,” Slàine said, impatiently snapping his fingers around the knife hilt.

“Vanguard Commander Zavala and Warlock Vanguard Ikora Rey,” Ardath answered without hesitation. “Zavala’s the real problem, though.”

“Ikora could stand up for her Warlocks better,” Silla pointed out. 

“She has for some,” Shry offered. “I don’t think she considers what happened to be a problem, given the extraordinary circumstances of the whole thing.”

“Is this the Red massacre thing you mentioned?” Slàine glanced at Olly who nodded. “Right then. Officers either stand by their people or get no loyalty. You’re gonna get the fuck out of there like you’ve never convinced yourself to actually, officially do, yeah?”

The entire camp turned to see how Shry would react to such an order. She considered for a long time before responding. “Not immediately, but soon,” she said. “There are people I only have access to through the Vanguard that I want to speak to before I do anything quite so final.”

“But you have an exit strategy?” he asked.

“The beginnings of one. The later stages depend on some of these conversations.”

“Cool,” he said, and returned to sharpening.

“May need to make the meeting with TGM secret then,” Silla muttered, tossing one of her knives idly. “His reputation is the tool he relies on most.”

“That’s fine,” Shry said, watching Slàine work on her knife.

“TGM?” he asked. 

“The Gentleman Martellus,” Bee explained. “He and Sorin have been teaching us!”

“We’re apprenticed, is what she means,” Silla added.

“The title sarcastic or?”

“No,” Bee drew out the vowel. “He’s very concerned with politeness and civility.”

“Vanguard aligned?”

Silla looked up briefly. “Officially, I can’t answer that any way but yes.”

“Understood,” Slàine nodded. “Right then,” he passed the knife back to Shry and sat up. “Who’s bringing me up to speed and when do we start?”

“In what sense?” Olly asked, tilting.

“Basics of current civilizations and governing bodies: structure and organization, census data, military strength and typical strategies, unusual capabilities, granted personal rights, education levels, moral compasses, philosophies. Probably history; need to know what’s gone on since that whole incident with the tree. Some sort of idea as to what the fuck Light is and why and how it does what it does.”

Shry had a smirk on her face by the end. Katya and Silla were both looking at Slàine with something resembling respect.

“Oh no,” Ardath groaned, his face in his hands.

“Sorry?” Slàine ventured, not looking sorry at all.

“Flashbacks to me,” Shry explained. “Not that I was that clear about what I wanted; I just knew I needed information.”

“This is gonna be great,” Silla breathed. “I volunteer!”

“Oh Light,” Astrophel said, still behind Ardath. “Do you remember when she harassed Zavala for four hours straight trying to get him to explain the reasoning behind there being only one safe haven for humans on Earth?”

“Why would you remind me?” Ardath whined.

“Tell me you recorded it!” Silla said immediately. “I need it so I can quote it the next time he bullshits me.”

Astrophel’s plates shifted and Ardath looked up, considering. “I can do that,” the EXO decided.

Slàine leveled a finger at Silla. “I like the way you think. I accept you as tutor.”

“Yes!” Silla fist pumped. “Bee, send Clutch orientation materials back to my datapad, please. Add in my notes on extant peoples and allegiances, as well as firepower and available materials. I guess full notes on the Last Safe City as well.”

“Last Safe City?” Slàine muttered. “How full of themselves are they, exactly?”

“In terms of human options, it’s actually really accurate at the moment. Well, except for the safe part,” Silla nodded to Shry. “You’re not going to enjoy that part much.”

“Well shit,” he breathed. 

“Isaac, send her the access codes for the datapad I started, please,” Shry said, stretching where she sat.

“Done,” he said, transmatting the datapad to the space between Shry and Slàine. 

“Sounds like they’re not going to go easy on you,” Katya noted. “I still have some of my combat programming from my time as a soldier-alternative. Might be some overlap.”

“Oh thank god,” he said, slumping. “Do you know which military?”

Katya shrugged but Astrophel emerged. “I found her in what looked like a rebel camp in Sierra Leone,” he offered. “Best I could tell they were keeping the bodies of EXOs they had defeated as trophies.”

Slàine frowned. “I wish I could say I was surprised. West Africa was still in the process of overthrowing several governments. South and East African countries were doing really well and tried to help West with peaceful treaties to make everyone happy and reduce lives lost but I’m not clear on why it never worked.”

“That’d do it,” Silla said, thumbing through the data pad Shry had handed her. “Any time a treaty or compromise aims to make people happy it tends to fail. Best approach is to make everyone equally unhappy so that the schadenfreude is strong enough to satisfy people.”

“That’s horrible,” Ardath said, leaning away.

“No, no, that’s good,” Slàine said quickly. “Any time we could piss off the remains of the British was a day we called good, even in my time.” His eyes crossed and he flinched dramatically. “Oh fuck, gross. I need to wash my mouth out with soap.”

“You’re an old man now,” Shry teased. “Back in your day!”

Slàine laughed and shook himself. “You and those mnemonic memories are going to surprise me at a bad time, just you wait.”

“Oh that’s fascinating,” Bee and Silla said at the same time and Astrophel sighed.

“Mnemonic memories?” Ardath questioned, audibly concerned. 

“My brain can’t access the memories on its own. Habitual and muscle memory seem to remember him pretty well,” Shry explained. 

“You doing okay with that?” Katya asked gently.

“So far,” Shry nodded. “Muscle memory trust is absolute which has been surreal but it’s also been good.”

Slàine smiled, visibly relieved. Katya turned to him. “You?”

“Me? I’m fine. It’s not like I had to do an entire twelve years of my life without her.”

“And the death?” Katya prodded. Isaac decided he was glad she knew Shry well enough not to take the deflection.

“Eh,” Slàine shrugged. “Apparently dying is not so out of the realm of the norm for Lightbearing folk. I imagine I’ll get used to it.”

“And in the meantime?” she continued. Shry smiled and leaned on her hand.

“I’ll get by?” He said it like a question. “Oh, do I need to switch to interrogation resistance tactics? I haven’t practiced those in a while.”

“A good thousand years or so,” Shry agreed, pushing him back into the uncomfortable topic.

“What do you want me to say?” he swept his arms wide. “That I’m expecting nightmares? That I’m sitting in the middle of the clearing for a reason? That I intend to use trees as target practice the next time I get my hands on a service weapon? I joined the military on purpose and I ended up getting Officer’s training. I attended mental health hygiene seminars at Shry’s clinic at least once a season if I could swing it. I can handle myself.”

Shry frowned at the fire, visibly concentrating. Katya picked up the conversation. “Good. That’s what we wanted to know. We’d have added help with such things to your datapad if you didn’t have that knowledge.”

Slàine slumped and Silla watched avidly as Shry budged over for him to lean against her without breaking her concentration. “Well, you could just ask, you know.”

“That’s good to know,” Katya said. “Couldn’t do that with Shry until recently. Had to pester her round to it.”

“Thanks, Isaac,” Astrophel gently bumped his shell against Isaac’s who bowed in acknowledgement. Ardath began pulling at his knuckles and both Astrophel and Isaac nudged his shoulders.

“I’m sensing backstory!” Olly whispered over Slàine’s shoulder.

“Go get it,” Slàine said immediately. 

Olly darted to the other Ghosts. “Story time!” she cheered at them. When the two Ghosts and the EXO stared at her, she hesitantly added, “Please?”

“Your call, Ardath,” Shry said, visibly charmed.

“I-” he reached for his hand again and Isaac landed in it instead. “Oh. Yeah. Um. I know you don’t understand our relationship with the Vanguard yet but this has to be fairly secret, all right? That’s not really negotiable. It’s for Shry’s safety.”

Olly and Slàine both looked at Shry who shrugged, nonchalant. “I can handle the Vanguard. But yes, I have reasons for leaving.”

“Right. I’ll keep it to myself, then. Olly?” Slàine said.

The Ghost considered her Lightbearer. “Okay,” she said quietly. “I can do that.”

“Okay, um. I, uh, used to be Shry’s Ghost. My name was Arthil then. I was with her until about four months after the Red War. I was rendered effectively dead on Io. We’re not sure what did it or how it happened. Shry kept my core and eventually, through some wacky situations, my self transferred from the core to an EXO frame rendered empty by Dissociative Exomind Rejection. And I’ve been in this body ever since.”

Olly was still for a beat. “I’m so sorry,” she said in a rush before darting back to Slàine and tucking herself under his arm.

Slàine glanced at her, resettled his arm so it was more comfortable but still covering her. “So this Vanguard is upset because why, exactly?”

“Because I used necromancy in the process of trying to get him back,” Shry explained. 

Olly shuddered and turned to hide her eye in Slàine’s side. “Necromancy as in magic to manipulate the dead?” Slàine asked, expression somewhere between baffled and unconcerned.

“Yes,” Shry said.

“Man, this whole magic bullshit is bullshit,” Slàine groaned. “I take it necromancy is unpopular?”

“Forbidden by the Vanguard,” Isaac began. “Our entire understanding of necromancy outside of Ghosts’ resurrection capabilities comes from an alien species called the Hive. Their capacities originate with the counterpart to the Traveler, commonly referred to as the Dark or Darkness.”

“So we’re back on the false dichotomy bullshit?” Slàine sighed. “It’s a spectrum! What about shadow? Shadows can’t exist without both light and dark,” Isaac watched Silla slouch at Slàine’s words. “Furthermore, light can’t exist without dark and the reverse is also true.”

“There doesn’t seem to be a way to stand in the middle,” Silla said, quiet and restrained. “Nor does it appear to be actually safe to try and use the Dark to aid the Light. It can be done, but you will not see the benefits.” The entire camp was focused on Silla now. “The Dark is… consuming. The entropy of it seems to pull all things towards a sort of flat, predictable state where there is nothing unique or strange, no individuality or choice.”

“Silla?” Astrophel’s voice trembled.

She shook her head. “I’m not the one who found out the hard way,” she offered. “I just got to see the consequences is all.”

“Who went that far?” Shry asked, concerned.

“Not your problem,” Silla countered. “It’s already worked itself out the way it should.”

The camp was quiet for a moment. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” Adath offered.

“I didn’t have to,” Silla said firmly. “I chose it and I would choose it again. I can’t ignore that kind of information. I have a team that relies on me.”

Slàine nodded slowly. “Good for you,” he offered. 

Silla looked up at him, and whatever she saw in his face seemed to grant her some sort of relief. She relaxed and nodded thoughtfully. She held out one hand and in it formed a spectral blade, she spun it once and it vanished, replaced by the Shadowshot. She flicked her hand and called up the Golden Gun and twirled it on her finger until it became a Solar blade. She tossed that in the air and called up an Arc staff in its place, spun it once and dismissed it. When she spotted the shocked awe on Slàine’s face, she grinned. 

“You’ve got a _lot_ of homework,” Shry told him. 

“Sure do. Deadline?”

Shry hesitated so Isaac spoke up. “Only what you give yourself.”

“You teach me arc knives and piloting and I’ll teach you all of that and help you get any ship you want,” Silla said, leaning forward, daring him.

“Done,” he said, standing to stretch. “When do we start?”

“In the morning,” Katya said, no room for argument in her tone. “Get used to your body first.”

“I remember it pretty clearly,” he said, continuing his stretches.

“More than likely you’re stronger and hardier than you were,” Katya continued. “You need to know your limitations.”

Slàine hummed something under his breath. “Olly, can you get us back here?”

“Yes!” 

“Cool. Time for a run, then.” He was gone in an instant and Silla immediately faded into the trees behind him. 

“Come on,” Katya said, standing. “Let’s spar until you can put words to what’s in your head.”

“Thank you,” Shry agreed instantly. 

Isaac and Ardath sat in silence as everyone else left. Eventually Ardath turned to Isaac. “How are you?”

“Concerned,” Isaac admitted. “He could very easily destroy the progress she has made.”

“I wondered about that. I wasn’t sure how seriously she was taking him but she trusts him implicitly and it is most definitely reciprocated.”

“Yes. I am also cautiously hopeful. He genuinely cares for her. Given time, he could be very grounding for her.”

“Plus he could fill out the fireteam. Started in Arc, after all,” Ardath joked.

“He’s certainly adaptable enough,” Isaac mused. “What of yourself?”

“Hm?”

“How are you doing?”

Ardath spoke quietly. “I miss Nessus. I’m glad to be here with you but things were simpler there. I’m nervous that I missed something else just as important as this.”

“She would only have grieved longer,” Isaac said gently. “Olly would not have been there. Should we plan to travel to Nessus soon?”

“I- Silla and Slàine-”

“Are welcome to join us,” Isaac pointed out.

“But Silla’s fireteam-”

“Could also join us,” Isaac said, serene, implacable.

“Seems unnecessary,” Ardath muttered.

“Most things are, and yet they are what lets us feel alive.”

Ardath finally looked at him. “You- How- How do you think up things like that?”

“It was an observation of a pattern,” Isaac offered, uncertain what Ardath meant.

“But it felt like-” Ardath broke off and glanced away. Isaac waited, even so he only barely caught the whispered word: “Poetry.”

Isaac wondered if it would be correct to use “warm” as the descriptor for how he felt. “Thank you,” he said simply.

Ardath looked back, the EXO’s expression as difficult to read as ever. “You’re welcome,” he said eventually. “And, thank you, Isaac.”

“You are welcome,” Isaac said warmly, willing to say it as many times as it took for Ardath to believe it.

**Author's Note:**

> An entire story meant to be about Slàine and it ends with the ex/ghost ship? More likely than you think.
> 
> This might explain the piece called Weather Drop if you were unsure what was going on there. ;)


End file.
